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<title>To Speak of Solitude by klytaemnestra (klytae)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593816">To Speak of Solitude</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra'>klytaemnestra (klytae)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:48:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus does not speak of those days when they had thought they would have everything. Midgar, Shinra, the planet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rufus Shinra/Tseng</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Speak of Solitude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For twelve days they lay together, breathless, in awe of one another’s bodies, hands touching, fingertips lingering, lips insistent as they sigh and shudder and breathe as one. They are both broken, some scars visible, but the more lasting ones exist within their minds. Tseng is reluctant to let go of this quiet world they have created where they can at long last simply be two people desperately in love, no longer Turk and President, no longer adjutant to the most powerful man on the planet, where he can love Rufus as equals, hidden away from the world. It cannot last. Rufus already speaks of his plans to rebuild, to fund Reeve Tuesti in helping design a future, and with it a better world. But for now Tseng wishes to be just a little bit selfish. There are no rules between them, no protocol, he rocks his hips down against his lover’s, cocks hard, slick with precum, movements languid, less concerned with their release than the way their bodies feel against the other, there’s desire but little need for urgency, and when Rufus sighs up into his mouth that he feels so good like this, Tseng pushes back a little more forcefully and thinks of how he could exist in this moment forever.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, when he’s alone in the shadows late at night, or in the early morning hours, while Rufus is dozing at his side, he questions if he ever freed himself from that place between the Lifestream. If this is some facsimile of the afterlife, Tseng thinks it must be paradise, to spend eternity nestled against Rufus’ thighs.</p><p> </p><p>There are the nightmares. He wakes from his own, hand searching for the slash along his torso, the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, the high insect whine of the jungle ringing in his ears. Rufus does not speak of his, though he makes soft fitful noises in his sleep, often startles awake as if he were falling, and when he looks up at Tseng with clouded eyes, Tseng is at least grateful that Rufus appears to have very little memory of the blast, only the moments before and after when time seemed to slow down. He presses his lips to Rufus’ unseeing eye, and wishes he might have been there. At least then, he might not have faced Diamond Weapon down alone.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus’ mouth parts in a silent cry, hands gripping tightly at his shoulder and forearm, as his body arches and shudders beneath Tseng’s, his release warm between them. He thrusts a handful of times more and buries his face into the curve of Rufus’ neck as the pleasure wracks his form. Rufus stretches out beside him, naked body spattered in traces of their mingling cum. ‘You’re still perfect.’ Tseng sighs, taking in the sight of Rufus there before him, and thanks whatever deities who might still listen that they have been given this chance.</p><p> </p><p>Tseng sleeps, he wakes, and tries to sleep some more. Rufus is settled close at his side, breath a warm comfort against his shoulder, and as he pulls the covers more closely around their shoulders, he glances at the bedside clock. 2:47 AM. They sleep when they wish to sleep, and fuck when they wish to fuck, and lay together arguing over who should make food until the other acquiesces. And as much as Tseng wishes that they could enjoy this existence forever, living off whatever billions of gil he knows Rufus has still at his disposal, and forget that the rest of the world exists, life has never been simple, and his wants come secondary to whatever Rufus has planned. He’s about to drift off again, lulled by the steady sound of his lover’s breath, the soft crash of the waves outside, when Rufus makes a sharp noise. And as he pulls Rufus tightly against him, lips buried in strands of pale gold, he accepts that this will have to end. That neither can put off the inevitable, that it will soon be time to emerge from their found solitude.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus sleeps late the following morning. Tseng is in the kitchen reading the paper, a mug of coffee in hand. ‘I spoke with Reno earlier.’ There’s to be a meeting in a few days' time, and Rufus for a moment looks as if he’s forgotten. Tseng makes him coffee, and kisses his temple, asking if he’d like breakfast. And when Rufus shakes his head a little, he says nothing.</p><p> </p><p>‘Have they taken my suggestion to relocate to Junon?’ There’s enough resources to place their headquarters here, the meeting rooms, and empty barracks, the ideal location to set up a new Shinra, a better one.</p><p> </p><p>‘That’s to be determined, Sir.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus smiles. ‘So it’s Sir again, is it?’</p><p> </p><p>‘What would you prefer?’ Tseng asks, moving bodily into Rufus’ personal space. ‘Mr President?’</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Mr President. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rufus does not speak of those days when they had thought they would have everything. Midgar, Shinra, the planet. That they might rule it together, as lovers, as equals, an emperor and his regnant. Thinks of his own folly, his foolishness in believing he might be capable of doing better, when all he has ever been is a failure, a disappointment, and an uncared for son.  He thinks sometimes to Tseng’s own criticism. How he had once told Rufus that the late President confided in him that Rufus was a rash child who would have simply inherited it all had he the patience to wait. And how for all his dreams, his ambition, even his lover has at times seen him as reckless. Tseng reaches over a hand, to thread their fingers together, unaware of this turn of thoughts, and as he lifts that hand to press a soft kiss against it, Rufus considers how he is not worthy of his loyalty, nor that of his Turks.</p><p> </p><p>When that kiss turns into something more, Rufus pushes aside those doubts, lets Tseng lower him to the floor and lavish him with attention, light eyes fixed upon the ceiling as Tseng’s mouth closes around his cock. Words begin and die on parted lips. <em> Don’t ruin the moment, Rufus. </em> Even as he knows he’s bound to fuck this up, like he always has before, that these quiet moments between them are nothing more than a distraction, and in a few short days they must return to reality, as unappealing as that may be. Rufus must face that Midgar is no more, that Shinra will never be as it once was, and the lives they shared have irreversibly changed.</p><p> </p><p>66 hours later, Tseng is gone, having flown out to Kalm along with Reno, Rude, and Elena to see Tuesti. Rufus, in his own trepidation, wishing to keep a low profile remains here in Junon. No one considers Shinra much of a threat, but no one knows its president survived save his Turks and Reeve. He suspects there are many on Gaia who are out for his blood whether he is responsible or not for their misfortune. He gets a phone call late that evening, Tseng’s voice on the other line. They’ll need to stay the night in Kalm, the weather grounding all flights, and as Rufus watches the flash of lightning off the coast, he answers with a soft. ‘Yes. I understand.’ When Tseng says he loves him, Rufus waits for 3 breaths, and hangs up. He pours himself a glass of cognac, and curls up on the sofa to reflect upon his many misdeeds.</p><p> </p><p>He wakes to Tseng brushing his hand along his cheek, and blinks twice. ‘How long have I been out?’</p><p> </p><p>‘From the looks of it since last night.’ There’s a concern in Tseng’s eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have left you alone.’ He settles beside Rufus, and when he reaches out to take his hand, he pulls it away. ‘What happened while I was gone?’</p><p> </p><p>‘I remembered who I am.’ He stands, and tries not to acknowledge the look Tseng gives him as he slips away into the bedroom. He needs to shower, to regather himself. His reflection under the brilliant vanity lights is one of someone who’s seen too much loss, eyes shadowed despite the sleep. He touches the left. It has been a futile and vain fancy that the vision there might yet return, knowing the loss of vision is not merely a side effect of the force of the blast, there had been a rain of glass as the windows he had once so loved were blown out around him. He supposes he should consider himself fortunate that he’s not scarred beyond recognition, that he’s still beautiful enough for Tseng to want, and find desirable, and not for the first time considers that perhaps it might have been easier had he been.</p><p> </p><p>He showers, dresses, suit, and tie, hair slicked back. When he looks at himself now he looks almost as though a man worthy of following, as if he’s not some broken relic.</p><p> </p><p>Tseng is seated on the edge of the bed, waiting.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus sighs, and fusses with his cufflink.</p><p> </p><p>‘Rufus.’ When there is no answer, Tseng continues, ‘I need you to talk to me. I don’t know what happened.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus moves across the bedroom to look out across the bay, to the ships beyond on the horizon, steaming along as if nothing in the world has changed. When he finally speaks, his voice is even. ‘I used to watch the ships, sometimes for hours. The way they were this constant, no matter the storms, they gave me resolve.’ Those first terrible months left here alone, self destructive, defeated and hostile and so very lonely, Rufus had taken solace in what he could. He lets out a sigh, looks down at his hands. ‘I never asked Tuesti what happened to the gloves. I suspect they were stained with blood.’ He chooses to not say <em> his blood </em>.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’ll acquire you another pair if that’s--’</p><p> </p><p>‘No. I think it’s time I acknowledge those scars.’ He smiles bitterly then. ‘My father never did.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Is that what this is about?’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus turns to look at Tseng, thinks of how he will never get closure, after all these years the old bastard had died before Rufus could have any sort of vengeance. ‘What did he look like, that night when you nearly killed him?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Scared, angry.’ Tseng pauses, dark eyes suddenly unreadable in the soft morning light. ‘Maybe a little proud.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus laughs, a hideous disbelieving humorless sound. For so many years Midgar had been his singular dream, and want. To rule it, to show to the world that he was someone to be feared, respected, to utilize all his resources, find the fabled mako rich Promised Land, and build a better world. ‘You stopped believing in it years ago didn’t you, Tseng.’ Knows his lover teased him at times, using words like ‘fanatic’ when Rufus spoke of this legend, but Tseng still had been loyal, in his surveillance of the Ancient, and supportive in Rufus’ own ambitions.</p><p> </p><p>‘I believed in <em> you</em>.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Well, that belief was misplaced.’ Wasted on someone such as he. An untested, inexperienced, ambitious failure. All his life he had worked to this, and he knows now he’ll never have the opportunity to prove himself. From the moment he had taken power, Midgar was already turning to dust in his hands. His legacy is to be remembered as a failed leader, who had brought about ruin to his city as the world faced a calamity of his company’s making. ‘Look at what I’ve made of this. The ruin I caused.’</p><p> </p><p>And like that, Tseng is losing him again. Life has been so simple, the two of them locked away together in the quiet solitude. He watches as Rufus looks down at his hands, at those scars, and turns away. ‘Come back to me, Sir.’</p><p> </p><p>‘How can you still believe in me?’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus never cries. Tseng wishes he would, he’s earned that right.</p><p> </p><p>‘I believe in you because you haven’t failed.’ Tseng moves then from his spot on the bed to stand beside his lover, and when he reaches out to turn Rufus to look at him, standing there before him, two inches taller, and still deadly menacing as ever even with all that has transpired between them, the love, the hatred, and anger, and sorrow, and loss, their own dreams lost to the ashes of Midgar. ‘You’re the finest leader Midgar had, the bravest, and I believe in you still, and love you for it.’ Tseng kneels then, fingers brushing the silvery scar along Rufus’ wrist as he lifts the hand to his lips, and presses a kiss to it. ‘Let’s rebuild the world together, my love.’</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fin </em>
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